* * * * *
Sam, William, and Kentuck have been on the trail to Gettysburg for five days; finishing their supper they sit talking.
“Where do you figure we are William?”
“We’re in the western part of Virginia and I think we are about half way to Gettysburg. We should be there in another four or five days. Why do you ask?”
Sam explained how he had heard the western mountains of Virginia did not side with the South on the slavery issue and had broken away from the state of Virginia and formed an independent state. He said he also heard the majority of inhabitants in this section of the upland country were vehemently anti-South, and hated the plantation owners of tidewater Virginia, who owned slaves. Most of the people in this area are uneducated, living on rocky scraps of land making a living selling moonshine or digging coal from the local coalmines. They never had the need for slaves and reviled those who did. He had even heard of murders that had taken place by the ‘hillbillies’ of, what was now West Virginia. Sam had the fear they were now in this part of the country.
“Don’t give it any mind Sam, you have your old Henry rifle and I have my Colt pistol, we will be okay. Come on let’s get some sleep so we can move out early tomorrow – the faster we get out of West Virginia, the better.”
Sam and William have a whole string of horses with them. They had gone to the back pasture and rounded up all the outlaw horses that were still on the farm. Originally there had been eight, but Luke, Catherine, and Sam had taken two along with them to Alabama. In addition to their two mounts, Sam and William have the remaining six and a burro with them. Their intention is to trade horses for supplies as they journey toward Gettysburg. They must trade since they have no hard cash except the gold, but they do not want anyone to know they have it.
Both boys throw their saddle blankets down and pitch the saddles on top to use as pillows. Rolling up in their blankets, they settle down to get some sleep.
The fire had dwindled down to an orange glow of hot embers; the hobbled horses graze at the edge of their campground. For a moment, the animals stop eating as their ears stand up. Their keen sense of hearing has picked up an unfamiliar sound.
The string of horses is beginning to get restless. They shuffle around each other, some whinny, others snort they are extremely jittery. The two young travelers lay on their blankets sound asleep. Sleeping on the ground by a campfire for days and days on end causes them to grow insensitive to the nightly noises of the forests and fidgeting of the horses. Kentuck had become used to the restlessness of the horses too and being snug and warm lying beside the fire was fast asleep.
This particular night it would have been especially useful if they had not been such sound sleepers. The noise, the horses have picked up, is men walking their horses through the woods toward Sam and William’s campfire. There are five of them. They are in the midst of the camp before Sam, William or Kentuck realizes it. They all ride western quarter horses with Mexican saddles. They appear mangy and dirty, but the Colt six-shooters strapped to their legs are clean, freshly oiled and recently used. “Hey, you two hombres wake up! Y’all got company!” The leader says stepping from his horse and walking toward the coffee pot sitting next to the campfire. Kentuck is on his feet growling at the newcomers.
William and Sam are now awake. Throwing back their blankets to get to their firearms is a mistake. Sam, sleeping closest to the fire tries to bring his Henry rifle up, but the leader smashes his .44 across Sam’s head knocking him to the ground. “Wait a minute! I know you!” said the gun-wielding intruder.
William helps Sam struggle to his feet; a flood of blood flows from a cut over Sam’s right eye down the side of his cheek and drips on the ground. “What do you want Mister? We’re just traveling through and ain’t bothering nobody.”
“First off this here one,” pointing his pistol at Sam, “I seed him the night Bart Black got kilt. He was with a woman and another man. Seems like I ‘member you alls was headin’ to Alabamm. Both of you git down on yore knees.”
“Nah, you must be wrong Mister, why would we be up here in West Virginia if we was headed to Alabama,” replied William?
“Shut yer mouth! I ain’t talkin’ to you.” Pointing at Sam, “It’s this one that was with them when that hayseed kilt Bart.”
William again answers, “What is it you want Mister? We ain’t got any money, and we don’t know no Bart.”
“No, what y’all is are liars. I see my Pinto pony over there in that string of horses, and y’all tellin’ me you don’t know Bart Black. We all worked for the ‘Double H’ ranch, just out of Amarillo and that Pinto and the rest of that string has the Double H brand on their rumps. I’d know that brand anywhere I’d ever see it, yeah thems Bart Blacks ponies all right.
“I’m called Crazy Bill, Crazy Bill Johnson and I was Bart’s best friend. Me and my boys is supposed to be on our way back to Texas, but like I said Bart he was my pal and I’m aiming to avenge his death. I promised myself I’d track down ever one of you low-down murderers.”
“Mister Johnson I’m telling you I don’t know nothing about Bart Black nor that feller Charlie’s Pinto. These horses were running free on a deserted farm and pasture. We figured they weren’t no use to whoever’s place it was. We figured the owners must of run off or got themselves killed in the War.”
“As I said, you’re a liar! You asked to know what we wanted, well I’m fixin’ to tell you – first off we’re taking that string of horses and second off we’re gonna shoot you right here and now.” Speaking to one of his men, “Lucky go look through them saddle bags of theirs and see if there is anything else we might need.” While their attention was riveted on Lucky, Sam tosses the gold map into the fire. No one sees him burn the piece of paper that was worth a huge fortune.
Rumbling through the saddlebags, Lucky finds the two sacks of gold. Holding them up for the others to see, “Looky here Crazy Bill what I done found – these young hayseeds was holding out on us!”
Motioning to Sam and William, “Check these fellers pockets. They might have more on ’em.”
Lucky searches both of the boys and pulls the large gold ‘Good Luck’ nugget from William’s pocket.” Holding it up for Crazy Bill to see, “Looky here Bill, somethin’ else I done found.”
The outlaw leader Crazy Bill puts his six-shooter back into his holster and admires the hunk of metal. “Gold huh? We don’t call him ‘Lucky’ for nothing. Now besides lying, yer thieves too boot! Stole yerselves some gold huh? Yer gittin’ ready to die does either of you have any last words?”
“I do,” answers Sam. “You’re right Mr. Johnson, I didn’t tell the truth, I was there that night Mr. Black was killed, but it was a fair fight, and he started it. If I’m going to die, I must confess my sins before I go to join my Heavenly Father.”
Looking at William, “You got any thang to say?”
“Nah, I didn’t lie I wasn’t there when your friend was killed, but if he was anything like you, he probably deserved it, and they killed him not a minute too soon.”
“Well, ain’t you two high and mighty, kneeling there on the ground getting’ ready to be kilt.”
Kentuck was growling and nipping at Johnson’s pant leg. Kicking Kentuck aside he pulled his pistol and shot old Kentucky Lead, a slight yelp and Kentuck was dead.
Sam screamed at Johnson, “You murdering scoundrel. You done killed my dog! I’m goin’ kill you for that, you...you...murderer!”
“Kill me, huh? It don’t make no matter, ya’lls soon to join him.” Pulling the hammer back again, he fired without aiming. ‘Kaboom,’ ‘Kaboom,’ two more shots from his old Colt .44 was deafening as it resounded through the trees. Blue smoke trailed from the barrel of his gun as he stood there admiring his handy work of shooting William, Sam, and Kentuck. The glow from the fire showed the big toothless grin he had on his face.
The first slug catches William just above the heart; the second bullet punches a forty-four caliber hole right
in the center of Sam’s chest. William is spun to his left; he reaches out one last time trying to grasp his friend Sam’s hand, as their hands touch they collapse where they stand. Both, with their warm, life’s blood spewing from their wounds, fall with a resounding thud upon the cold West Virginia ground – their journey is over. The two friends and their faithful ole dog Kentucky Lead, are - dead!